


An exercise of trust

by I_love_my_dark_strange_son



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Badass Aaron hotchner, Hurt Aaron Hotchner, Hurt Derek Morgan, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_love_my_dark_strange_son/pseuds/I_love_my_dark_strange_son
Summary: After a raid goes wrong Morgan ends up trapped with an unsub and some memory loss  cue Aaron Hotchner to the rescue. This is the first time where Morgan finally learned to trust someone with his life.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	1. Trapped

Alarm bells rang in his head. He knew something was wrong even before he opened his eyes. If only he could figure out what it was. He groaned and tried to reach up and run a hand over his eyes only to be stopped short by restraints. Adrenaline flooded his veins as he quickly tried to sit up. He let out a sharp gasp when his shoulders wrenched painfully. 

“Dam it.”

He took in his surroundings. Under him was something soft, a mattress probably. His arms and ankles were each bound, zip ties. He tested their strength but they held, only serving to rub his wrists raw. The room was unfamiliar, lit by a dim light in the right corner, likely sitting on the floor based on the angle of the shadows. His brain twisted the shadows making faces appear and disappear before his eyes. 

“Come on think Morgan.” he muttered to himself.

He closed his eyes focusing on his senses. Outside he could hear passing cars, a lot of them, so he must be near some sort of road, a big one too. Okay so plus one to his chances of being found. He wasn’t gagged so if he wanted to he could scream for help, another plus to his mental count. He yanked again on the zip ties but they held. He reached his hand out finding cold metal, so minus one to his count. No chance of escape right now. He closed his eyes again, straining to hear anything else. Suddenly it became apparent to him, somewhere to his left was the sound of deep even breathing. Someone was in the room with him. He didn’t yet know what that did for his mental count. He wasn’t able to sit up to see who it was so everything came down to what he could remember.

As he leaned back and closed his eyes, straining to remember what led him here different faces flashed across his eyes. Gracia twirling her pen as she informed him of an address. Prentiss holding Ried back, from what, he couldn’t remember. And Rossi, his eyes alight with concern, a warning not to act hastily. Morgan had scoffed, if there was a chance he could help he wasn’t waiting. He’d rushed inside somewhere, he couldn’t remember where or why. But he'd busted down the door, it had been reinforced and kicking it down had hurt, bad. As if on cure his foot started to ache where he’d probably broken it. 

He took a deep breath, then blew it out in a steady stream. If he had “acted hastily” as his memory of Rossi suggested he not do it was likely no one from his team was with him. Except. He could remember Hotchner had been with him, while the rest of them were away, only talking to him through the phone. Yes, now he could picture Hotchner’s face. His mouth set into a deep grimace and his right eye swollen and red already starting to bruise at the edges. Hotch had followed him in. He was sure of it. Okay so that meant it was Hotchner in the room with him. That was definitely plus one to his count. Hell that might even be plus two. 

“Hotch.” He hissed, still unsure of where the unsub was and not wanting to alert him to his own steadily recovering memory. 

The breathing sped up, but he got no response.

“Come on man I really need you right now.”

Finally he heard a faint groan. Thank god. Then a gasp. 

“Derek, look out!”

Hotch’s voice was scared, not commanding like Morgan was used to hearing.

“Aaron, hey it’s me. I’m here, it’s alright.” Morgan soothed softly. Obviously it was far from alright. He was zip tied to a metal frame in a house he didn’t know and with a failing memory. But he’d been in worse. His mind flashed back to the bomb on the ambulance and he shuddered. ‘Stay present’ he chided himself in his head. 

“Morgan where are you? Are you hurt?” Hotch asked. There was the business-like tone he knew. The familiarity brought a sense of calm to him. 

“Here, I’m right here Hotch.” Morgan said slowly. Hotchner turned towards the sound of his voice. 

“Derek your head you…” 

Hotchner trailed off and Morgan could hear some shuffling somewhere to his left. Feet scraping across wood, fabric sliding along drywall. And then Hotch’s face loomed over him in the dark. Morgan let out a wide smile at seeing him. 

“Hey Hotch I’m not in a great position, if you could help me out I’d appreciate it.” He said shaking his wrists against the restraints. Morgan cut himself off with a cough that rattled his ribs, which he hadn’t noticed were sore until that exact second. 

Hotch furrowed his eyebrows, eyes darting around, assessing, making a mental tally of their chances. Morgan had done the same but Hotch likely remembered more than him, making his tally more accurate. From Hotch’s subtle grimace and the quick locking of eyes followed by broken eye contact Morgan knew his total was in the negatives. 

Hotch clenched his teeth, looking around the room again and Morgan cursed, “Dam it.”

Morgan drew in a wheezing breath, and Hotch’s gaze quickly shifted back onto his face. Hotch’s arms jerked as he made a move to reach for Morgan but they were bound tightly behind his back, no comforting gestures and certainly no removing of zip ties. 

“There’s nothing else in here is there. Nothing to help us. No way out.”

It wasn’t a question, Morgan already knew the answer. Hotch shook his head anyway. 

Hotch carefully hobbled to the door, contorting his body weirdly to get his bound hands a good grip, but the doorknob stayed still and the door stayed firmly shut. Morgan did another survey of the room, the door was the only way in and the only way out, no windows, nothing else to help them. 

“Hotch what happened to your leg?” 

That question got a strange look. A slanted frown, furrowed brows. Concern, Morgan decided.

“Derek you don’t- you don’t remember?”

That statement caused a wave of panic to lance through his body. Suddenly Hotch was at his side again.

“Derek, listen to me it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. We’re both here. They’re looking for us. The team, our team, they’ll find us.” Hotch whispered, his face inches from Morgan’s own. His voice was soothing and the panic started to ebb.

Then the door opened. 

A man stood in the doorway, a feral smile on his face. 

“The famous BAU. Well part of you anyway. You know it’s a real shame about that other agent. She was real pretty. What a horrible way to go.”

Morgan's eyes jumped to Hotch who gave a subtle head shake. Not JJ. Not Prentiss. Morgan bit back his sigh of relief. 

“It’s fine though, you two are way more interesting anyway. I think we’ll have a good time won’t we?”

Morgan blinked and suddenly Hotch had taken a couple wobbly steps towards the man. 

“You won’t get away with this, my team is the best and they will find us. You’ll go to jail, and you’ll get the death penalty. And I’m really going to enjoy watching you die.”

The man backhanded him harshly, sending him staggering, his shoulder connected loudly with the wall barely keeping him balanced. Then the man used Hotch’s tie to drag him closer. 

“Keep talking and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”

Hotchner headbutted him, using his good leg to sweep the man’s feet out from under him. He knew he couldn’t make it far, but if he could just find a weapon, a cell phone, something. The hallway was empty and Aaron let himself pause for only a second before heading towards the stairs. His brain told him they were much too far to make it in time, but he tried anway, pushing his legs as fast as he could. 

He made it two steps down when he felt a hand grab his shoulder, he twisted out of the grip, losing his balance in the process and tumbling down the stairs. He pushed himself to his feet quickly, head spinning and breath coming in harsh pants from the pain. He made it to the door as he heard footsteps thundering behind him.

He kicked the door open with his good leg letting out a grunt of pain. The wind whipped around him from outside and he saw the fast moving cars on the road below. They had to be at least seven stories up and he knew he no chance of escape. 

He had paused too long and the man caught up. He spun Aaron around pushing him against the wall. Aaron’s head bounced against the wall with a resounding crack next to the splintered wood of the door frame. He heard a shout of alarm from upstairs, but nothing else registered over his pounding heart and labored breathing. 

Then a hand was around his throat.

“I really ought to kill you right now, Derek is the one I really want, you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” The man trailed off taking in his face with a triumphant smirk as his face went red and blotchy. Hotch couldn’t even lift his hands to try to pry the man’s hand off his throat. Eventually his vision started to blur and black spots danced before his eyes. “Then again I do love an audience.” The man released his throat, kicking his bad leg. Hotch let out a groan of pain in between his panicked gasping breaths. As air started to come more easily to him he realized he was being dragged back up the stairs. 

When they got into the room he just lay slumped on the floor, too hurt to do anything more than try to draw the next breath in. Of course, his position on the floor left him out of sight of Morgan who was freaking out. 

“What did you do to him, you son of a bitch?”

“Derek, I’m down here. I’m fine.” His voice came out raspy, but at least it stopped Morgan from trashing against his bonds. 

The man stepped forward, hand stroking down Morgan’s cheek. 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Then stop me.”

Aaron groaned from his spot on the floor, but ultimately all he could do was lay there helplessly. The man laughed before turning back to Morgan. His hand shifted around to the back of his head, fingers coming away bloody. So that explained the memory loss. He smeared the blood across Morgan's cheek, smiling. 

“Blood compliments your eyes.”

Aaron’s stomach rolled.

“Fuck off.” 

Morgan was thrashing against his bonds again. Not even stopping when blood started to roll freely down his wrists. The man allowed his eyes to roam Morgan’s body. 

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” he said tugging on the zip tie around Morgan’s closest hand.

The man laughed before leaving the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Aaron pushed himself to his feet resolutely, biting his lip to keep from crying out in pain. He staggered over to where Derek lay. 

“Derek, listen to me. This man he’s obsessed with you okay, this whole thing was just to get you down here. I should have seen that. If you do what he says, I don’t think he’ll hurt you. Whatever happens I’m sorry I couldn’t get us out of here. I need you to know it’s not your fault. If you need someone to blame, blame me okay? I know our team is going to find us, we both have to believe that.”

Aaron’s voice was still raspy from almost being choked to death and each sentence ended with a shuddering breath, but he got his point across. 

“Aaron, I don’t think this is your fault either. You can’t blame yourself okay? This is no one’s fault but that man out there.” 

But Aaron just shook his head and looked away, partly because of the intensity of Morgan’s words and partly to hide the tears starting to form in his eyes.

“I’m still thinking of a way out.” He answered quietly. 

The man stepped back into the room dragging a chair. He pulled Hotch to it zip tying him and turning the chair towards where Morgan lay helpless. Hotch tested the strength of the chair but, like the bed that held Morgan, it was metal and unlikely to budge. He groaned, closing his eyes and blew out a breath in an attempt to calm himself. Morgan needed a cool head, someone to lean on, and it Aaron had to be that no matter how much pain he was in. 

The man pulled out a knife hovering over where Derek lay. 

“Don’t worry hotstuff I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Morgan winced leaning as far away from the knife as he could in his restraints. The man carefully ran the knife along his clothes, cutting them away, stripping the FBI agent down to his boxers. Morgan twisted, attempting to kick his legs and pulling desperately at the restraints. Instead the knife slipped at the bottom of his pants, causing it to knick the tender skin around his ankle.

“Stop struggling.”

Morgan snarled in response. The man grimaced but slashed the knife across Morgan’s arm. He brought the knife down again, twisting slightly ripping the skin, keeping the would shallow but painful. The screams of pain echoed around the room, loud enough to be heard by any neighbors if they weren’t in a building abandoned three years ago. Aaron knew that wasn’t a sound he’d be getting out of his head any time soon. 

“I told you to stop struggling.”

The man straddled Morgan's hips, running his free hand over his chest. Morgan thrashed violently under him. The man quickly stood up, stalking towards where Aaron was slumped in the chair. He ran the knife down Aaron’s arm earning him a drawn out groan. 

“Every move you make of resistance, you’re both gonna pay.” The man said, talking to Morgan, he then turned back to Hotch and said, “I want you to watch, don’t look away.” 

Hotch’s eyes fluttered slightly as he forced his head up to look the man in the eye. The man smirked at him, sinking the blade in deeper before pulling it out. He climbed back on top of Morgan who closed his eyes and held himself rigid, still. Hotch kept his eyes trained on Morgan’s face knowing that looking away would earn Morgan another knife wound. Suddenly the man dipped his head down, licking a stripe along Derek’s jaw. Derek jerked up as if to push the man away if only his arms hadn’t been bound to the bed. 

The man simply tisked.

He ran his blade lightly along Derek's jaw line, just enough to draw a little blood. He walked back over to Aaron, digging the knife along the same pattern. Aaron groaned again and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Hotch, come on man I need you here. Don’t leave.” Derek pleaded from his spot on the bed. He knew it was selfish to ask that of him, Hotchner was bleeding badly and openly. His shirt was soaked with the boold and he had to be in intense pain. But if he left Derek alone with the man Derek honestly wasn't sure he could make it. 

Then another thought occurred to him, if Aaron let himself pass out he could slip away, he needed to stay awake. Aaron’s eyes fluttered open and he turned his head slowly to look at him. 

“Come on man talk to me, I need you to talk to me okay?”

“Okay.” The word was soft, barely audible but Derek could hear the determination behind it. 

The man let out a laugh at their exchange, he drove the knife into Hotchner again, earning another groan, before turning back to Morgan. Before he had even settled across the Morgan’s legs Hotch started up a steady stream of words. They were mostly distinct, promises that help was coming, that Morgan was going to be okay. Apologies for getting them into this mess, apologies for not getting them out of it, and most of all apologies for not protecting Morgan when he needed him. 

The man seemed more rushed now, digging his fingernails into Morgan’s chest and grinding his hip against the bound man. The man tilted his head back and moaned. Then he quickly moved his hands towards Morgan’s boxers. Before he could touch them Aaron spoke up.

“Hey idiot.” 

The man paused glaring at Aaron. 

“Yeah you. You know what I think you are?”

The man narrowed his eyes. 

“I don't care what you think, Hotchner.” He snapped. But he still didn’t turn his attention back to Morgan who lay under him, still and pale, clearly remembering another time and another man. 

“I think you’re a coward. Not even human, much less a man. You think you’re so brilliant, tricking us into coming here but you're not. You’re just a pathetic scumbag who can’t even get it up. I also think we got our profile wrong. We thought you felt compelled to recreate your father’s tourture of you and your brother on others because you wanted to convince yourself that if they couldn’t defend themselves there's no possible way you guys could have. But I understand now what this really is, you’re trying to make yourself feel less guilty for what you did to your brother after.”

The man’s eyes widened and he flung himself off Derek. He staggered towards Aaron, shoving his knife into his face angrily. 

“You don’t know anything about my brother you asshole.”

“Don’t I? He was seven years younger, still a kid while you were an adult. You were 19 weren’t you, when you killed your father? And your kid brother was scared and confused, he’d never had consensual sex. And you took advantage of that, picked up where your father left off. And when he grew up, realized what happened you killed him, just like you killed your father. Because you’re a coward who couldn’t face what you’d done. So now you take out your guilt on other innocent people.”

The man angrily slashed the knife across Aarons chest. 

“You have all that figured out huh. Well it’s not gonna matter much is it. Cuz Morgan here is gonna be a real interesting treat while you sit here bleeding out. I won.”

Aaron grinned up at him with bloody teeth. 

“I think you’re almost out of time.”

Just then an alarm blared from downstairs, sounding through the whole house and gaining the attention of everyone in the room. The man frowned.

“That’s my cue to go, you both have been fun but I don’t fancy sitting in a jail cell for the rest of my life. Derek, perhaps I’ll be seeing you again. And Aaron, I sincerely hope you don’t bleed out before your team arrives that’d be a real shame.”

Then the man was gone. 

“Fuck Hotch, are you crazy?” Morgan demanded. 

“Jury's still out.”

“You just baited an asshole with a knife into attacking you.” Morgan snapped, his concern coming out as anger. “And you saved my ass. You didn’t have to. I could have taken whatever he dished out.”

“I know.” Aaron slurred out and blood dribbled out of his mouth. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. 

“No way Hotch, you aren’t giving up now. No way. Talk to me. I need to hear your voice.”

Aaron opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. He started to mumble things, pleas , more apologies about not being able to protect Morgan, plans for getting drinks once the team found them, speculations as to who would be in the door first. Morgan didn’t care what he was saying, he didn’t care that he could barely understand what Hotch was saying as he mumbled around blood. All he cared about was the fact that Hotch kept talking. 

“It’s okay Derek we made it.”

Then they heard the door slam against the wall.

Prentiss came tearing up the stairs letting out a relieved sigh upon seeing both of them alive. 

“What took you so long?” Hotch asked, joking despite his own crushing guilt and the pain that lanced through his body with every breath


	2. What comes next

Even before Hotch was out of the hospital he was working the case. He was going to find that guy no matter what, and he wasn’t going to go in there with a team, no he was going alone and he was going to kill him. He didn’t care if it got him dismissed from his post, or if it got him in jail for the rest of his life, he didn’t care. He was going to make that bastard pay. 

And he did, he found him. 

Tracked him to his house. He beat the man's face in, not stopping when bones cracked under his hands and blood ran down his face. All he could seem to say was ‘this is for Derek.’ Over and over again he repeated it. He had his fist raised to make the final blow but something stopped him. He slumped to the ground, realizing what he’d almost done. 

Then he heard Morgan and Reid's shouting.

“FBI come out with your hands up.”

He shook his head, fighting back a smile. Of course they had found him, even though he tried to keep them away.

“Ried, Morgan it’s just me in here.”

They crashed into the room taking in the state of Aaron and the man on the ground.

“Dam it Hotch, really?”

That was Morgan. 

Aaron sighed, running his hands over his face, ignoring the blood that left behind. He started to question if he’d done the right thing.

Then he looked up at Morgan and behind the facade of disappointment on Morgan’s face he could see relief. Actually it wasn’t quite relief, it was a disappearance of the stress that Morgan’s face had held since the attack, the constant looking over his shoulder. And he knew whatever came next would be worth it to see that look on Morgan’s face. 

Hotch smiled, an honest to god smile. And Morgan smiled back, his eyes started to fill with tears.

Finally he pulled in a shaky breath and whispered. “Thank you Hotch.”


End file.
